


Meddling

by meanderingsoul



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Awkward Conversations, Contemplation of Other People's Relationships, F/M, Implied Relationships, Invasion of Privacy, Multi, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Overthinking, Tony Stark Has Issues, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 11:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3326246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony had found through trial and error that it was frequently better to just keep talking once he'd accidentally started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meddling

 

Tony barely glanced up when the lab door swished open (if Jarvis wasn’t alarmed than it was 99.9% likely that he didn’t need to be alarmed) but when Coulson walked in with a file that Tony just _knew_ he was going to be expected to have something to do with he said, "security breach," anyway.

Just because.

He really tried to sound angry and everything too, but sounding grouchy about Agent’s continued existence was still hard to muster up since the guy had only been alive again for like two months. Or out of his very dramatic coma. Minimally conscious state following severe chest trauma and subsequent oxygen deprivation to the brain. Whatever.

“I don’t think it really counts as a breach if Jarvis opens the door for me when I ask,” Agent said.

Well that just wasn't right. “Really, and why is that Jarvis?”

“I really couldn’t say sir.”

Jarvis had turned into such an annoying shit. Tony was so damned proud.

Agent thankfully didn’t bother trying to hand Tony the file, just set it neatly on the nearest clean surface, of which there actually was one (Dummy had been busy) but only the one. Turned out Dummy was tetchy about his nice clean table and promptly slid the file off the surface, into his claw, and rolled away with it.

Agent looked faintly bemused by this.

It had been Tony’s previous experience that this was the upper limit of the guy’s facial expressions, being the ultimate government spook and all, but somehow he’d gone from annoying-government-suit to Pepper’s-friend-Phil, and after that whole thing where he’d stumbled into the tower one morning with a suit jacket on over hospital scrubs, briefcase in hand and had been blatantly surprised at the sheer volume of everyone’s anger and visibly hurt when Barton had backhanded him across the face and yelled _fuck you Phil_ and stormed out and hesitantly relieved when Natasha had tugged him into her arms, let him bury his face in her hair which had almost stopped the yelling itself cause Widow did not hug people, Tony was pretty sure she ate people.

But anyway, after all that horrible emotional mess had happened all over his nice new tower floors it just was even harder than it had been before to ignore the guy.

Agent Coulson was still standing by the one clean table and was peering at the holographic model Tony had been messing with, which was fine because it was just an idea he’d been throwing back and forth with Bruce for lightning storage generators and they were not at the Thor field-testing stage yet and there was no way the guy knew what it was, but he was just standing there watching, seemingly content and well, Tony’s mouth didn’t always consult his brain.

“You know for a while there, I thought you and Pep might end up together.”

He heard a small cough but didn’t look; it was frequently better to just keep talking once he'd accidentally started. “…because you show up and turn out to be all scary efficient secret agent man and then you turn into _Phil_ and you guys start meeting up for coffee when you’re in the same city. But, third coffee day came and went and that’s usually when I decide what to have Jarvis do to their taxes based on how pleased she is the next morning and there was nothing. Bupkis. Nada. And not that I’m not pleased with how things worked out, I’ll honestly never know how I got that lucky, but I could really see about two or three tiny, freakishly organized little people that I was gonna end up buying cars and whatever for, except for that whole mess where I was going to be dead and they’d inherit the company from Pepper, but you know I probably would have been fine with that, with her and you and that whole thing that didn’t actually ever happen.”

He wasn’t actually sure Agent was still there; in fact it would be great if he’d walked out during that spiel since Tony hadn’t really meant to ever tell anyone that. He’d managed to never tell Pepper about the thing with the taxes, and if he’d pictured a couple kids with gingery hair and very serious little faces and thought it adequate and not even all that painful no one had ever had to know.

In his defense, he’d been dying at the time.

Unfortunately when he glanced over Agent was still there and staring at him, eyes a little wide. Well that couldn’t be helped. He turned back to the proposed generator schematics and eventually heard Agent’s footsteps begin heading towards the door.

“Mr. Stark, I am honored.”

No one said anything else and the door finally slid closed. Thank God, or well, Thor maybe. Maybe they could just forget that conversation had ever happened. At least no one else had been around to hear it.

The tower had become way too crowded with all this interior remodeling and helacarrier destruction and new lab partners and movie night crap. He didn't like the noise at all. Not one bit.

*

In the hallway Pepper stared through the door, still holding a colorful handful of takeout menus, damp eyed and a little stunned. Phil let the open door close itself behind him and raised an eyebrow and waited.

“I don’t know what concerns me more, that everyone I’ve dated in the last decade has been evaluated for suitability by my former boss, who has apparently committed _tax fraud_ against the ones who were bad dates, that part of his thought process when he was dying was to consider whether I had found an appropriate romantic partner, or that he never once in all that time considered himself for any of it.”

She swallowed hard. Phil thought it best to just wait quietly for the rest of it without comment. That was usually how these mini outbursts needed to occur.

"Or maybe it’s that he still hasn’t figured out that you’re with Clint and Natasha and have been for years, despite that overly dramatic reveal we all had upstairs a few months ago. And to think I thought the ‘beautiful woman playing a cello’ and ‘Portland’ code was painfully obvious.” She smiled, a little tremulously.

Phil returned the small smile, leaned over to kiss her cheek before walking towards the elevator. His chest was still a little tight from that incident with the catastrophic lung injury. “Let’s try not to ruin this ideal image he has of me just yet.”

He heard Pepper sniff and start to fuss with the menus that were why she’d been down here to overhear in the first place. “We still set for lunch this Friday?”

“Of course. Melinda is still implying that I need to get out more whenever I see her. Very hypocritical of her. If she was anymore attached to her office space I could build her a little moat.”

Pepper laughed. He’d finally reached the elevator panel. Walking was still far too laborious. It had already been three months. Shouldn’t he be better? What was experimental medical technology good for these days?

“Phil, for what it’s worth, your one of my dearest friends but we would make a _terrible_ couple.”

He let himself grin crookedly, since no one could see his face. “Absolutely, we are far too much alike.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another little fic bit I can now remove from my hard drive! (ty mom for the beta-read)   
> I've always loved the hints of similarity we got between Phil and Pepper in the movies.


End file.
